


I'm Following the Map that Leads to You

by OverlyObsessed223



Series: Taste of a Sweeter Life [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV), X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Sibling Pietro Maximoff, Grief/Mourning, Not X-Men: Dark Phoenix Compliant, Pietro Maximoff Feels, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, because I haven't even seen that movie lmfao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29744103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverlyObsessed223/pseuds/OverlyObsessed223
Summary: “She… she needs me,” Peter explains to them, his voice uneven and shaky. “She’s calling me.”There is a chorus of voices from behind him, questioning who “she” is and what the hell he’s doing, but Peter doesn’t even have an answer. Even if he did, he’s not sure they would quite understand. He stands in front of the red cloud, eyes wide as he reaches out with a trembling hand.-When Peter is pulled into the Hex and is immediately recast as Pietro Maximoff, things stop making sense.
Relationships: Billy Kaplan & Pietro Maximoff & Tommy Shepherd, Erik Lehnsherr & Pietro Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff
Series: Taste of a Sweeter Life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186250
Comments: 27
Kudos: 573





	I'm Following the Map that Leads to You

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for WandaVision all the way up to episode 8. 
> 
> I am obsessed with WandaVision, y'all, and I have so many questions—one, of course, being what the fuck is going on with Peter/Pietro??? Y'all, this may be wishful thinking, but I really want Evan Peters to stay in the MCU. Kevin Feige, if you're reading this, do right by my boy.
> 
> Anyway, here's my take on what's going to end up happening!

Every so often, Peter finds a part of himself yearning for the time when life was simple. 

Back before Logan showed up at his mom’s house with Charles and Hank in tow, before Peter played a huge role in breaking a mutant terrorist out of the Pentagon, before he pieced together the very obvious puzzle regarding his parentage and realized said mutant terrorist is his father. Before all that, Peter was a lazy twenty-year-old living in his mother’s basement without a care in the world, getting into trouble at every turn because no matter how fast he runs, life has always had a way of catching up to him. He had no direction back then, no desire to run anywhere but right back home. 

Things change. For a while, he tried to tell himself he didn’t give a shit about his deadbeat father who vanished years ago because that’s what he wanted to believe. If he allows himself to care, well, he might want to finally introduce himself to his father, and if he does that he might get hurt. Peter can run from anything, can move faster than sound, but he won’t be able to run from himself. 

But the reality is he  _ does _ care, and when Erik resurfaces, Peter knows he has to find him. Suddenly, for the first time in his entire life, Peter has a direction, a place to go—and the address is written on the card Charles gave him years ago. He thinks that there’s a good chance Erik might be heading to Xavier’s school, given his past with Raven and Charles, so he pulls on his leather jacket, snaps his goggles on, and starts running. 

Turns out, he’s wrong about Erik showing up at the school, but despite that, he’s glad he came when he did. The entire school blows up in a matter of seconds, but mere seconds are all Peter needs to get everyone out front to safety. Sure, nobody thanks him or anything, but Peter doesn’t need thanking, so it’s cool. He already knows he’s the best, that he’s strong and capable. 

(If he’s the best, why did Erik leave him behind?)

Somehow, throughout his time with Charles’ X-Men, it becomes less about showing off, and more about actually making a difference in his world. And sure, there’s a possibility that Peter knows his dad is close, so he wants to show him that he’s worthy of at least a shred of attention, but mostly he wants this Apocalypse asshole taken down because his friends are getting hurt, damnit. So he shoves the small part of him that is afraid deep down, puts on a smirk, and goes after Apocalypse. 

Too bad he’s not the only one with tricks up his sleeve. There’s a very real second when Peter is sure he’s going to die—nobody is going to come to save him, because Peter has always been a loner, running so fast that nobody else could ever keep up. He’s stuck, trapped, and he can feel Erik’s eyes on him, and yet he’s about to have his throat slashed. 

The girl with the purple sword slashes Apocalypse’s throat instead, and, well. 

Peter didn’t see that coming. 

They go home and become a team. Peter’s leg heals quickly, because everything about him is fast, even his healing factor. He’s no longer an overgrown kid living in his mom’s basement—he’s one of the X-Men, finally someone with a desire, a purpose. 

Erik leaves, and Peter can’t work up the courage to reveal himself. He’s not prepared for a negative reaction, to be abandoned by his father for the second time in his life, and so he keeps it to himself. Things surely will be better if he does his best to move on, to forget the slim possibility of having a father back in his life. 

Time marches on. The school continues to grow, the team gets stronger, and Logan shows up in the dead of night, having no memory of anything having to do with the X-Men, past or future. Peter likes living at the school, but he’ll admit he has trouble connecting with others.

He just can’t seem to make himself slow down. 

Then, on a warm June night, it happens. Peter is lounging on his bed listening to his Walkman when he feels the vibrations of many people running down the school halls. Sitting up abruptly, Peter pulls off his headphones and hears yelling coming from outside on the lawn. Peter zooms downstairs and outside in a blink of an eye to find everyone else already present and accounted for.

Peter’s jaw drops when he sees what they’re all looking at. 

A cloud of bright red has formed in the middle of the lawn. Peter instantly recognizes it as magic, whipping and lashing around, yet stuck in the confines of its circular shape. It’s powerful… and it’s destructive. 

“Everybody, stay back!” Charles shouts, motioning for the children who have gathered to look at the red cloud to retreat. “Stay away, we don’t know what this is!”

“Pietro,” Peter hears a voice call out, and he immediately spins on his heels to find who said that. Logan is standing on the lawn shirtless, claws out and ready to strike, Scott has a hand on his sweet shades ready to blast something into oblivion, and Jean has a few rocks and branches floating around her. Nobody is looking at Peter expectantly. 

Peter turns his attention back to the red cloud, and it’s growing larger, expanding to cover more and more square footage. 

“Pietro,” the same voice calls again, and it’s stronger, clearer. 

“Who’s saying that?” Peter demands, turning back to the others, but everyone just looks confused. 

“Nobody said anything, Peter,” Jean frowns, and there are multiple nods of agreement. 

“Pietro, please,” the voice is crying now, full of longing.

Peter narrows his eyes and zips around the crowd of children, trying to find someone who’s playing a trick on him or something. 

“Who’s saying that name?” Peter questions, breathless for the first time in his life. 

“What name?” Scott tilts his head in confusion, and Peter gives him a weird look because surely they can hear the voice too, right?

“Pietro,” Peter says, but there’s zero recognition on anyone’s faces. “It’s—it’s not my name, but it’s close. Who the hell is saying it?”

“Nobody is saying anything, moron,” Logan growls, sounding slightly annoyed by Peter’s antics, but this isn’t an antic or a game—this is  _ real. _

The red cloud continues to expand, and Peter feels something tug at his soul. Grief and hopelessness swell within him, but they're not his—it belongs to someone else. Peter swallows.

“I need you, Pietro,” the voice begs. “I miss you. Please come home to me.”

Peter takes a step forward, and small sparks of magic erupt from the red cloud. 

“Peter, get back!” Charles orders, but Peter ignores him in favor of taking another step forward. 

“Peter, you idiot, what are you doing?” Logan yells.

Truthfully, Peter doesn’t know what’s happening, and with each step he takes, the future becomes more uncertain, but something feels right about this. 

“She… she needs me,” Peter explains to them, his voice uneven and shaky. “She’s calling me.”

There is a chorus of voices from behind him, questioning who “she” is and what the hell he’s doing, but Peter doesn’t even have an answer. Even if he did, he’s not sure they would quite understand. He stands in front of the red cloud, eyes wide as he reaches out with a trembling hand. 

“Peter _ , no!”  _ Someone screams, but it’s too late. Peter touches the red magic and immediately gets yanked forward as he falls through a vortex of red. He’s falling down, down, down, and it starts to feel like he’s never going to stop falling. 

He’s falling through an endless cloud of grief and loss, and sometime in between, he starts to become someone else. Of course, at the core, he’s still Peter, still the kid from DC, but there’s someone else there, too. He remembers being ten years old and hiding under the bed with his twin sister, Wanda—his parents long dead as they stare at a beeping bomb with the words “Stark Industries” painted on the side. He remembers the experimentation and being stuck in that tiny cell, alone, as he zipped around, trapped within four small walls. He remembers Ultron, fighting against and eventually teaming up with the Avengers, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, and for a few hours, he felt like a hero himself. 

He saves Clint and the child, but he gets shot multiple times in the process. He falls into a pool of nothingness, and something inside of him breaks, a piece of himself lost forever. Peter can feel Wanda’s hurt, her pain, her anguish. 

She’s broken and alone. 

Peter falls out the other side of the vortex, but he’s no longer Peter—he’s Pietro Maximoff, the dead twin brother of Wanda Maximoff. He lands on a lawn in the middle of the night, groaning as he pushes himself off of the ground. In front of him is a nice-looking suburban house, the lights from inside faintly glowing from behind the curtains. She’s inside, he can feel her presence—he’s closer to her than he’s been for a long time. 

Peter supposes he should be worried about himself, should be wondering about where he is and how he’ll get home, but all he can think about is walking up to Wanda’s door and ringing the bell. 

“Well, this is a surprise,” Peter hears a voice say before he can take another step forward. He whips around to see a dark-haired woman wearing gym clothes smirking nefariously at him. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting her to bring you in, but this will work out just fine.”

“Who are you?” Peter bends his knees, ready to fight this lady if needed. 

The woman laughs. 

“My name is Agatha Harkness,” she says. “But you can’t tell Wanda, alright? That reveal will come later, I believe.”

Before Peter can say anything, Agatha’s hand lights up purple, and suddenly, Peter is no longer in control of himself. His vision is rimmed with purple as Agatha’s fingers work the magic through Peter’s body, rendering him completely under her control. “I guess I don’t have to worry about you spoiling the big ending, though.”

Peter finds himself walking up the steps to Wanda’s house and ringing the doorbell. He fights every single moment against Agatha’s magic, but he’s unsuccessful. Peter wants to cry out in frustration because he keeps getting stuck and it’s just proving that he’s nothing but a kid with a huge ego who wants nothing but his father’s approval. 

Then, the door opens. 

For a moment, a look of confusion crosses over Wanda’s face, and Peter can understand why—it’s not like they’ve met before. 

“Wanda, who is that?” The humanoid android asks from behind Wanda, and it takes her a second to gather her bearings. 

“Pietro?” Wanda whispers, a look of disbelief on her face, and Peter feels Agatha nod his head. 

“Long lost bro get to squeeze his stinkin’ sister to death or what?” Peter says, but those words aren’t his own. 

Wanda, though still seeming slightly unconvinced, steps forward and embraces him. Peter knows he’s not the one in control, but when he hugs Wanda, he feels like a piece of himself has been returned to his soul. Wanda isn’t his real family, he knows that, but even having a fake family is a nice feeling. Peter thinks he’d be able to enjoy it more if he was actually in control of what he’s doing and saying. 

Under Agatha’s spell, Peter plays the role of Wanda’s dead brother Pietro, the brother-in-law to Vision, and Uncle P to Billy and Tommy. Billy and Tommy are great kids, and even though he’s not really their uncle, he still feels connected to them. He feels connected to Wanda, too, but maybe that’s just the false memories in his head. 

Peter isn’t sure how much time passes in this world, but what he does know is that something is seriously wrong here. Beneath Agatha’s spell, Peter’s heart begins to worry and ache for his fake family, and he hopes someone can save them before it’s too late. (Peter was too late to save them, just like he’s always too late.)

As the town celebrates Halloween, Peter can feel Agatha trying to get closer to finding out Wanda’s secret—she wants to know how all of this started, and honestly, Peter’s quite curious, too. 

“Hey,” Peter feels himself say to Wanda when they’re sitting on the hay bale, “I’m not some stranger, and I’m not your husband. You can talk to me.”

Those words are Agatha’s, Peter knows it, but it’s the first few words that don’t feel like outright lies to him. He wants to help her, to be the brother she needs him to be because it’s what feels right. 

“I don’t know how I did it,” Wanda admits. “I… I only remember feeling completely alone. Empty, I—just… endless nothingness.”

It’s not what Agatha was looking for, but Peter can understand. He can feel Wanda’s grief, her loneliness, and he thinks Wanda knows this all isn’t real, but she’s not ready to let go, yet. Hey, no judgment coming from him—if he’d been through as much as Wanda, he’s sure he’d have a mental breakdown, too.

Then, Wanda’s world begins to fall apart yet again. Agatha reveals herself, captures the twins, and the White Vision enters the hex, as Darcy calls this place. The real Vision, the one married to Wanda, finally releases Peter from the spell he’s been under. Gasping, he takes a moment to gather his bearings, happy to be free once more. 

“Are you alright?” Vision asks, and Peter nods, breathless once more. Vision’s expression morphs into perplexment. “Are… are you really… him? Pietro?”

Peter opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, another unfamiliar voice cuts him off. 

“No, he’s not Pietro,” a man says, and they both turn to see a man with a wicked-looking goatee walking towards them, red cape swishing behind him. “Pietro is dead, and I thought you were supposed to be dead, too, Vision.”

The man pauses as if he’d momentarily forgotten something. 

“I am Doctor Stephen Strange,” the man introduces himself, almost as an afterthought. Doctor Strange’s eyes land on Peter and his eyes narrow. “Who exactly are you? You’re not coming up on any of our systems.”

“I—I’m Peter Maximoff,” Peter says, and Doctor Strange’s brows raise in surprise. “I’m from DC, I’m one of the X-Men, I guess.”

Doctor Strange nods slowly, but he looks puzzled. 

“We’ll have to figure out where you came from later,” Doctor Strange says. “First, we need to end this madness and free Westview. Will you help us, Peter?”

“Yeah,” Peter says. “For Wanda and the kids.”

“For Wanda and the kids,” Vision echoes, but there’s a sad edge to his voice. 

Peter doesn’t have his goggles on him, but he’ll have to make do without them. 

Finally a free man, Peter fights alongside Wanda, Vision, Doctor Strange, and Monica to take down Agatha and the White Vision. Both are extremely powerful, so it’s no walk in the park, but he gives his all to help these people because that’s what an X-Man does. Peter’s job is to find the kids—Pietro’s nephews—and get them to safety. 

Billy and Tommy seem hesitant when Peter finally finds them cowering behind a mail truck. 

“Hey, kiddos,” Peter says slowly, carefully. “I’m Peter. Your mom and dad sent me to help you guys. You can trust me, I promise.”

“Mom said you’re not our uncle,” Tommy says suspiciously. 

Peter can’t outright deny that, because Tommy’s right—Peter isn’t actually their uncle. 

“I’m a friend,” Peter says and holds both of his hands towards them. 

Billy gazes into his eyes for a moment, his head tilted in thought. 

“He’s telling the truth,” Billy finally says, and Peter grins because it’s so cool to see their powers developing. These kids are going to do amazing things one day. Hell, they would make amazing X-Men, but that’s for the future. 

Billy takes one hand and Tommy takes the other, and in a blink of an eye, Peter whips the kids to the other side of town, away from Agatha’s evil clutches. He can feel her eye on them, but he doesn’t stop running until he makes it to the very edge of the Hex. Maybe he’s not their real uncle, but he’ll protect them in Pietro’s place.

They win, but at a cost. Vision isn’t real, a figment of Wanda’s magic, and as he takes down the Hex, Vision dies with it. Peter has to fight off the tears that are threatening to fall from his eyes, holding Billy and Tommy close as they sob in his arms, calling out for their father. Vision is no more and Wanda falls to the ground, Monica by her side comforting her, which Peter is grateful for—he’d love to be the one holding Wanda in her darkest hour, but he knows her children are everything to her so he doesn’t let go of them. 

Heyward, the asshole who created the White Vision, gets arrested, and Monica takes over as the head of SWORD. As the residents of Westview get back on with their lives, Peter stands on the edge of town next to Wanda, who is now stroking her fingers through Billy and Tommy’s hair.

“Alright, I think I’ve figured this out,” Doctor Strange announces as he approaches them, and they all turn to look at him. “The reason Peter isn’t showing up on our systems is that he’s not from this reality. Wanda pulled you from an alternate reality.”

Wanda gasps, bringing a hand to her mouth. Her eyes begin to well up with tears once again, and it makes Peter’s heartbreak. 

“I am so, so, sorry,” Wanda breathes.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s cool,” Peter rushes to comfort her, waving the issue away with his hands. “You didn’t do it on purpose, I think. And besides, I was the idiot who went through the portal in the first place. Not that I regret doing that, though—you needed me.”

Wanda sniffs, reaching up to brush a tear away from her cheek. 

“Thank you… Peter,” Wanda says like the name feels weird on her tongue. “For being so kind about this. I put you through a lot of trouble.”

Peter shrugs, glancing back at the town. It’s a nice-looking place—he would’ve liked to stay for a little longer. 

“It was really the mean witch lady who gave me trouble,” Peter says, giving her half a smile. “But it’s okay. I’m a survivor.”

“Well, after I get some things sorted I’ll work on sending you back home,” Doctor Strange says stoically. 

Doctor Strange gets pulled away by Jimmy Woo, and Billy and Tommy are now preoccupied with a soccer ball one of the Westview residents was willing to let them borrow. It’s a strange game of soccer, Peter notices because Tommy is super speeding the ball around, but Billy is stealing the ball away using his telekinetic powers. Wanda laughs softly as they watch them for a moment. 

“They’re awesome kids,” Peter says, stuffing his hands into his leather jacket pockets. 

“Yeah, they are,” Wanda agrees, and there’s love shining in her eyes. She finally has something to hold onto, two lights in a sea of darkness and grief. A reason to keep going. 

“You know…” Peter hesitates for a moment before continuing. “I only have a few memories of Pietro, but from what I do know about him… he’d really love them. And he’d be really proud of you.”

A few more tears fall from Wanda’s eyes, but she smiles regardless. 

“Thank you,” Wanda says through her tears. 

Slowly, Peter wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a half hug. Her head drops onto his shoulder, and she sighs in content. Something is tugging at Peter’s soul, and for a moment he considers never letting go. 

“Uncle P, come play with us!” Tommy says, zipping to stand in front of Peter with the ball in his hands. “You can be on my team!”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Billy protests, having to jog over to catch up to his brother. “He should be on my team!”

Peter squeezes Wanda’s shoulder before letting his arms drop, putting on a smirk and grabbing the ball from Tommy’s hands.

“Hmm, this is a predicament,” Peter frowns, tossing the ball and catching it in his hands. “I guess… I’ll have to be on my own team!”

Billy and Tommy’s eyes go wide as Peter laughs and speeds away with the ball, running around the field as the kids attempt to get the ball away from him. A spark of joy erupts within Peter as they play, their laughter lighting up whatever darkness remains from the Hex. Peter doesn’t think he’s ever been happier, and it’s that moment when he realizes he doesn’t want to go home. 

“This might sound crazy,” Peter says later that night when they’re at Doctor Strange’s creepy wizard sanctum—the boys are asleep on one of the living room couches, leaving Peter and Wanda to sit on the other couch together, “but… what if I stayed here?”

Wanda’s brows knit together, and Peter rushes to elaborate. 

“Like, real talk—I know I’m not… him,” Peter says, “but I think I’m a version of him, at least. I’m not your brother… but maybe I could be your friend.”

Wide-eyed, Peter chews on his bottom lip as he waits for Wanda to say something. Wanda doesn’t seem to be in a big hurry to respond and instead takes a moment to consider his words. 

“You know, Peter, you know a lot about me… and my Pietro,” Wanda says quietly, before turning her eyes back on Peter. “But I hardly know anything about you. Who are you?”

Peter straightens up, licking his bottom lip in nervous thought. Is she testing him right now? She didn’t give him an answer to his proposition, so maybe she wants to know more about him to know if she can trust him. 

“Uh, yeah, right,” Peter nods, shifting uncomfortably. He’s not too sure what to say—his life isn’t interesting like Wanda’s. He’s not an Avenger like Pietro became. “I’m Peter Maximoff, I have a mom and a little sister. I used to live in my mom’s basement until I joined the X-Men—that’s a team of mutants who do superhero stuff. Kind of like your Avengers, but not as cool.”

Wanda smiles, propping her elbow up on the elbow of the sofa and resting the side of her head on her hand. Her red hair dangles down—it’s slightly messy from the day of fighting they’ve had. Her eyes are still red from crying, but she looks happy. Not as happy as she was when living in her fake reality, but still happy. That’s enough for Peter. 

Peter clears his throat because he’s realized he forgot one last detail about his life. 

“I also have a dad, but he left when I was little,” Peter tells her, looking down at his twitching hands. His entire body wants to run now that he’s shared this piece of him, but he won’t let himself run from Wanda. “He’s a mutant like me, but he—uh, he’s kind of an international terrorist because he dropped an entire stadium in the middle of a city and killed JFK. He also doesn’t know I’m his kid, which kind of sucks, but what can you do, you know?”

The smile has fallen from Wanda’s face, and she raises her head to look at him straight on. Before she can say anything, though, Peter presses on, because once he starts running, it’s hard to make him want to stop. 

“I guess I just worry he’ll be disappointed that I’m his son. I haven’t done anything memorable or awesome like he does literally every day,” Peter says, swallowing thickly before letting out a humorless laugh. “I think you’re the only person who’s ever bothered to ask about my shit. Which is nice, you know? You’re cool, Wanda.”

Wanda sighs, and lifts her legs so she’s sitting criss-cross on the couch, directly facing him. She looks into his eyes for a few moments, as if she’s searching for something, and she smiles softly as a result. Maybe she found what she was looking for. 

“You know, I see so much of Pietro in you,” Wanda whispers, and tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes. She quickly rubs them away with the back of her hand before continuing. “You’re kind, strong, thoughtful—but you’re not Pietro. You’re Peter.”

She raises a trembling hand, reaching up and touching his cheek with her fingers. 

“This isn't your world, Peter. This isn’t your life,” Wanda sucks in a shaky breath. “And I know that if I was from your reality, and you suddenly disappeared, I would miss you so much. Just like… just like I miss him so much.”

Peter frowns. “But… are you sure you don’t need me?”

“I need to let go,” Wanda says, and a few tears spill from her eyes and trail down her cheek. She glances over at her sleeping twins. “Vision and Pietro are gone, and I need to let go of them. For my kids.”

Peter nods in understanding, but he can’t say his heart is in it. Wanda seems to notice his lack of enthusiasm and leans into him, wrapping him into a hug. Peter sits there and holds the sister who’s not really his sister, but who also feels like the twin he never had. 

Usually, Peter’s only desire is to speed things up, to dash through life in a blink of an eye, but now… well, now Peter wishes he had the power to slow a single moment into a million moments. 

An hour later, Doctor Strange enters the room. 

“I have found your reality, Peter,” Doctor Strange says. “I’m ready to open the portal to send you back home.” 

“Alright, dope,” Peter forces a grin on his face as he and Wanda both get to their feet. As Doctor Strange continues to flip through a weird-looking book, Wanda walks over to the other couch and shakes the twins awake. 

“Billy, Tommy, wake up—Peter’s leaving,” Wanda tells them, and the twins sit up, rubbing their eyes sleepily. 

Tommy speeds over to Peter in the blink of an eye and hugs Peter tightly, and Billy follows at a noticeably slower pace, mirroring his brother. 

“I wish you didn’t have to go, Uncle P,” Tommy says sadly. 

“Yeah, you should stay here,” Billy agrees.

Peter kneels and pulls them both into a big bear hug, holding them close. 

“I’m sorry, kiddos,” Peter says softly, “but I have to go back to my world.”

Neither twin says anything, and instead, they both continue to hold onto him. 

According to Wanda, one day, when the twins are older, she’s going to explain to them what happened here. She’s going to tell them of their real Uncle Pietro, how he died a hero as an Avenger. She’ll tell them about Peter, the man who isn’t quite their uncle, but was close enough to the original for Wanda to feel safe allowing him into her home. Peter isn’t their Uncle Pietro, but he is their Uncle P, and he’ll always remember them for as long as he lives. 

“Unleash hell, demon spawn,” Peter grins as he finally releases them from the hug and stands back up. He gives each twin a fist bump before turning his attention back to Wanda. 

“When you get back, you should find your father and talk to him,” Wanda says quietly so the twins and Strange can’t hear what she’s saying. “If he’s anything close to sane, he’ll be proud of the man you are. And if he’s not… well, he’s a dumbass.”

Peter chuckles, glancing down at his shoes before looking back up at her. 

“I’ll tell him you said that,” Peter smiles, and Wanda smirks playfully. 

“Go ahead and send him my way,” Wanda says, and her eyes turn slightly red before reverting to normal. 

Doctor Strange starts to move his hands in a circular motion, and a golden ring of magic appears. Inside the ring appears the image of Xavier’s school, and Peter can feel the gentle wind whipping through the portal and rustles his silver strands of fair, sending a few pieces into his eyes. Peter takes a step towards the portal but freezes before spinning around and pulling Wanda into one last hug. 

“Peter, perhaps you’ve been misinformed, but I don’t have all day,” Doctor Strange says firmly, and Peter and Wanda pull away from each other. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Peter assures the wizard, and makes his way towards the portal. He glances over his shoulder to look at Wanda and the twins one last time. “And if any of you ever happen to be around my reality… call me up, yeah?”

“Of course, Peter,” Wanda agrees with a smile. “Good luck in the future.”

“You too,” Peter nods, giving one last final wave. “Bye, Wanda.”

Peter takes a deep breath and steps through the portal, his feet landing on the front lawn of the school. He’s not sure how much time has passed since he got pulled into Wanda’s world, but it’s now daylight instead of the dead of night. Peter breathes in the fresh air and glances behind him just in time to see the portal shrink and disappear out of existence, leaving Peter alone on the lawn.

It’s like it didn’t even happen. He’s wearing the same clothes he was in when he was yanked into another world, and for a moment it feels like he was on a vivid trip. But then, he notices a bit of silver spray paint on his forearm that’s still there from Halloween night, and that’s his evidence that his trip was very real. 

He takes a few steps forward, but he doesn’t have a destination in mind. It feels weird, being back home. It’s funny, he knows he’s Peter, but like it or not, he’s brought a piece of Pietro Maximoff back with him. He’s forever fused with Wanda’s twin brother and can relive Pietro’s memories like they’re his own. 

Peter slowly moves along the pathway that will take him to the front door of the school. He stumbles through the front door to find the entrance room empty—right, classes are probably in session at this moment. It’s weird because Peter disappeared on a Friday night. Was he gone for multiple days on end? It certainly didn’t feel like that long, but like Wanda always used to say, life moves fast in the suburbs. 

“Peter?” Peter snaps his head up to see Kurt standing at the top of the stairs, shock written all over his face. Kurt teleports so he’s standing in front of Peter. “Peter! You’ve returned home!"

“Hey, Kurt,” Peter greets him if only to be polite. To be honest, he’s so freaking exhausted. 

“Are you okay?” Kurt frowns, studying him up and down. “Vat happened? One moment you vere here, the next you vere gone!”

“Yeah, I’m good, I just took a little trip,” Peter says, moving towards the stairs in hope that he can fall into bed soon. “No biggie, right?”

“A trip vhere?” Kurt inquires but shakes his head when Peter doesn’t immediately answer. “Ve should go see the Professor, Peter.”

Before Peter can protest this, Kurt grabs his arm and teleports them upstairs, pulling him down the hall towards Charles’ office. They come up to the doorway to find most of the X-Men already gathered in the office—Charles, Logan, Hank, Jean, Ororo, and Scott. They all turn to look at Peter when they notice he’s present, and varying amounts of surprise cross all of their faces. 

“Hey, I’m back,” Peter says casually, nodding his head in greeting. “Well, I’m gonna go sleep for a hundred years, check ya later.”

Peter moves to turn around and walk away, but Logan grabs his shoulder before he can do so. Logan seems a bit surprised that he was able to catch Peter in the first place, but what can Peter say? He’s just not in the mood to speed around today. 

“Whoa, kid, hold on just a second,” Logan says gruffly as Charles wheels himself around his desk. 

“Peter, where have you been?” Charles questions. “You don’t know how relieved I am to see you back home. Are you alright?”

Peter heaves a sigh—he’s too tired to try and explain where he’s been. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Peter says, deciding to give them a very brief gist of what he’s been up to. “I got pulled into another reality by an alternate version of my sister. Spent a few days on her fake TV sitcom. It was a super rad time. Now I’m back, so that’s that.” 

If anything, this explanation has seemed to confuse them further. Oh well, he tried, right? He shrugs Logan’s hand off of his shoulder and walks away down the hall to his bedroom, his feet and his brain so tired. 

“Peter, wait!” Hank calls from behind him, and Peter groans loudly in protest. Why won’t they all leave him alone? “I’m sorry, but I need to run some tests on you. You disappeared into a cloud of red magic, I need to make sure you’re okay.”

For some reason, Peter feels himself bristle with anger. Is Hank suggesting Wanda’s magic somehow hurt him? Sure, deep down he knows it’s a logical concern to have, but he still feels enraged by the suggestion that Wanda’s magic had a negative effect on him. It’s like he’s angry on Pietro’s behalf. 

“Why the hell wouldn’t I be okay?” Peter snaps, turning around to see Hank’s eyes widen in surprise. Peter rarely gets angry, always having been a go with the flow kind of guy. Right now, though, he’s pissed. “She didn’t hurt me, Hank, she needed me, okay? I’m fine.”

“Peter, I just—” Hank fumbles, seeming to not know what to say. “I know she didn’t hurt you, but I just want to give you a check-up. Just… humor me?”

Peter grits his teeth before his shoulders slump. 

“Sure, whatever,” Peter gives in, but he makes sure to put on a show of not being happy about it. He follows Hank down to the infirmary, silently sliding onto the examination table, and allows for Hank to take his temperature, blood pressure, and a sample of blood to study. Just as Hank puts a bandaid on the spot he drew blood from, the infirmary doors slide open, and Charles wheels himself in. Peter is so close to breaking down into tears, because all he wants to do is go to bed, damnit. Agatha kept him awake for a while because there never seemed to be time between episodes to get a full night's rest, and it wore him down to a point of pure exhaustion. 

So it’s safe to say he’s not in the mood for an interrogation. 

“Peter, I think it’s best we discuss what happened to you,” Charles says firmly, and Hank nods in agreement. 

“I already told you everything, though,” Peter argues, scrubbing his face with his hand. “There’s nothing else to say, man.”

“Peter, you are clearly upset,” Charles points out, his tone soft. “I can feel your pain from here. Would you allow me to look inside your mind to understand? I—”

“ _ No _ ,” Peter cuts him off sharply, recoiling. Then, he feels a wave of coldness wash over him, and he deflates. “Just please, stay out of my head, okay? I’ve had a lot of that the last few days—I’m kind of over that sort of shit.”

He slides off the table, fully intending to leave the infirmary and go up to his room to sleep.

Instead, he passes out the moment his feet touch the floor. 

While he sleeps, he dreams of a flying city rising higher and higher into the air, with metal robots attacking him and his friends from all angles. He can hear the low, misguided voice of Ultron in his head, speaking words of persuasion, and he feels the sharp pains of the bullets hitting his chest one by one. 

“You didn’t see that coming,” he says to Clint, and then Peter wakes up in a cold sweat. 

_ I’m Peter, not Pietro,  _ is what Peter repeats to himself as he sits in his bed with his clammy hands pressed against his eyes.  _ I’m Peter, not Pietro. _

Logically, he knows he’s still the same Peter, but over the next few days, he finds it harder to push Pietro away. Just, it’s hard to forget the sliver of life he lived by Wanda’s side. He misses the connection he felt with her the moment he landed in Westview, he misses hanging out with Billy and Tommy, he misses being Uncle P. Is it fair to want the things Pietro is rightfully deserved? 

“Something’s different about you,” Logan comments as he cracks open a soda bottle. Peter is sitting at the table, stirring his spoon in his bowl of soup that has long gone cold. Peter hardly glances up as Logan sits down at the table across from him. 

“You think?” Peter raises a brow, but even those two words feel half-hearted and forced. 

“Peter, why won’t you tell anyone about where the hell you went?” Logan suddenly demands to know, nudging his coke bottle aside in favor of focusing on the conversation. “You got sucked into some weird vortex and disappeared for days, and now you’re acting weird. Like you’re not yourself.”

Peter considers this for a moment, letting go of his spoon and allowing it to slide into the bowl. 

“Maybe I’m not myself,” Peter admits, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand. “The minute I got pulled into Westview, a part of me became what she needed me to be.”

Logan frowns, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. 

“And what was it she needed you to be?” 

Peter remembers the grief, the anguish, the longing. 

“She needed me to fill a void,” Peter answers quietly. 

Logan hums, though it doesn’t sound like he fully gets it, not that Peter would expect him to understand. 

“What’s Westview?” Logan asks as Peter stands up and zips over to the sink to dump his uneaten soup down the garbage disposal. 

“Where we filmed the show,” Peter says as he saunters out of the room. “Duh.”

The nightmares don’t go away. Torture, bombs, death—it’s all there in Peter’s mind, and every night they rotate like a movie theater changing out films. Tonight, he’s met with a classic: the dream where he cowers under the bed and watches the bomb tick red for hours on end. 

Peter wakes up and pushes himself into a sitting position, running his fingers through his sweaty silver hair as he waits for his heart rate to slow down. Not wanting to stay trapped in the confines of his bedroom, Peter stumbles out of his room and down the hall. He pauses when he notices the light in Charles’ office is on, and the door is wide open—inviting as it always has been. 

Peter slowly approaches the doorway and peeks inside to see Charles sitting at his desk, grading papers. He looks up when Peter shows up, though, and sets his pen down.

“She was calling for me,” Peter says before Charles can say anything. He begins to walk around the office, chewing on his nails. “She—Wanda, she needed my help. She was so sad and alone and desperate, and I knew I had to go to her.”

He pauses for a moment to glance out the window, down at the lawn below. Everything looks so peaceful, so quiet. 

“But really,  _ I  _ wasn’t what she needed—she wanted  _ Pietro _ , not Peter, but Pietro is gone so she settled for the next best thing, I guess,” Peter continues, and all he can remember is flashes of red magic. “In order to prepare me for the role, she filled my head with Pietro’s memories, and a little bit of herself too, I think. It would have worked out if that dog-killing bitch hadn’t taken control of my brain.”

Peter turns away from the window to see Charles listening with a thoughtful expression on his face. 

“I’m not her brother, I’m not the uncle to her kids,” Peter attempts to put on a smile to deflect the pain he’s feeling, but he’s sure it’s not coming across the way he’s intending. “But there was a minute where I really believed I was, and I really liked being him.”

Peter has to swallow back tears, his hands and feet twitching, begging him to start running. 

“Peter,” Charles finally says softly. He motions with his hand to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit.”

Lacking the strength to argue, Peter plops down into the chair. He makes a point to slump and slouch like the man child he is because that’s what Peter is supposed to be. Pietro, of course, would sit tall and mighty, never afraid to bravely stare into the eyes of his opponent. 

“I won’t pretend to understand what you’re going through. I have seen and dealt with a lot of things in my life, but it sounds like you’re describing events that are outside of my field of expertise,” Charles says, and Peter shrugs because honestly, he’s not so sure he fully understands what happened to him either. He simply went along with it, figuring that was the only way to stay calm and collected. “But, from what I  _ can  _ comprehend, it sounds like there are other realities out there with other versions of ourselves. You may be another version of Pietro, but you are still Peter. You may have his memories, his feelings, but you still have your spirit.” 

Peter nods glumly.

“The hardest part of life is learning to live without the things—or people—we long for,” Charles continues. “I believe that, in time, you will learn to live without Pietro and become yourself again. You just need time to process. In the meantime, though, perhaps you should consider reconnecting with the people who care about you here, in our world.”

Charles gives Peter a pointed look, and Peter shifts uncomfortably. Does Charles know about Erik being Peter’s father? He wouldn’t be surprised if the Professor did know—he tends to know everything around here. 

“Yeah,” Peter agrees, and he truly takes the message to heart. “I will. Thanks, man.”

The first thing Peter does when he leaves Charles’ office is zoom downstairs. He picks up the phone and dials the only phone number he knows by memory—he had to memorize it after getting picked up by the cops too many times. He holds the receiver to his ear, holding his breath as the phone rings. 

“Hello?” the voice of Peter’s mother comes through. Not Pietro and Wanda’s mother, but Peter’s mother, the most consistent part of his life. For a long time, she was the only family Peter had, and to hear her voice fills him with so much contentment. 

“Hey, Mom,” Peter says into the phone, and his mother gasps. 

“Peter! I haven’t heard from you in forever, honey,” his mother says, and Peter winces. “What have you been up to?”

“I was just… really busy,” Peter answers, not wanting to go into the whole story. They would be here for a while if he did. 

After chatting with his mom for a few minutes, she briefly puts Peter’s little sister on the phone. 

“Hi, Peter!” his sister squeals into the phone, and Peter is reminded of Billy and Tommy for a moment. “I’ve missed you!”

“Hey, sis,” Peter grins, and for the first time in a while, he feels whole again. 

But there’s one more thing he has to do. 

Now, he really doesn’t want to do it, and he can feel himself shake as he slowly walks towards the kitchen where he knows Erik is. Erik came to visit Charles, but Charles last minute had to go on a trip to DC. Now, Peter suspects Charles didn’t actually have to go to DC tonight, but who’s to say?

Peter comes up to the kitchen doorway to see Erik rummaging around in the kitchen. The latter has yet to notice the former, and Peter awkwardly shifts on his feet. He wants to run away, wants to get out of the emotional trap he’s leading himself towards. 

He doesn’t take off, though. Peter’s feet remain planted in the kitchen doorway. There are things he can’t run from, and he needs to stop pretending that this isn’t one of those things. 

Taking a deep breath, Peter straightens his spine and holds his head high. He draws from Pietro’s bravery and Wanda’s perseverance, feeling them in his mind—perhaps they are far away, but he can still sense them. They’re here, with him. 

But in the end, he is Peter, and Peter is the only person who can do this. 

Peter steps forward into the kitchen, grabbing Erik’s attention. 

“Hey, man,” Peter says awkwardly, clearing his throat before continuing. “I—there’s something I need to tell you.”

Peter has no idea how this is going to end, how Erik is going to react. But no matter what happens, he knows he can survive because that’s what he is—a survivor. More importantly, though, he’s Peter, and that’s all he needs to be. 

And if everything goes wrong, then, well, Peter knows he has a sister and two nephews in the reality next door cheering him on. 

**Author's Note:**

> And now the six day wait for episode nine begins. I'll possibly see you then!


End file.
